“I do want to come back to New York.” She’d just thought it would be to finish her degree.
“Put a portfolio together that I can present to my director, and we can go from there.”
“That’s...generous.”
“I love your work, Carly. I always did. Maybe you need some time to digest.”
Digest. Digest and possibly regurgitate. Because Carly’s leg had not stopped jiggling the entire time she’d been speaking to Jenny. She felt as though she’d run a mile but not moved a single inch. Jenny had noticed Carly’s work. Maybe it hadn’t been the floor-length gowns she once dreamed she’d design for a movie star to wear to the Academy Awards. But it meant something that she’d caught Jenny’s eye. Jenny was kind, but Carly also knew that she wouldn’t compliment her unless she meant it.
She’d been worried about what she’d do after selling RockYourBaby. Worried about what direction her life would take. Now she could go back to school and finish, knowing that Alec couldn’t hurt her anymore.
Knowing she wouldn’t let anyone else hurt her ever again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” Carly snapped. By the time Jill showed up with Grace an hour later, Carly had been about to call nine-one-one and put out an all-points bulletin on a tall redhead and an adorable baby.
“Take it easy. I figured I’d get my steps in, so we took an extra long walk.” Jill unbuckled a sleeping Grace.
“Let me.” Carly bent to pick Grace up and carry her into the house.
She walked carefully into the spare bedroom, where she’d set up the crib, and set Grace on her back as recommended by the American Academy of Pediatricians. Yep. Carly knew her stuff. More and more each day. Grace had the face of a cherub in her sleep, sweet and soft pink cheeks. Enviable long lashes. Carly spread a blanket over her in case she got cold, and gently stroked her plump cheek with the back of her hand.
She turned and left the room, nearly bumping into Jill just outside in the hallway.
“What are you doing?” Jill narrowed her eyes.
“Putting her down. What does it look like?” Carly whispered.
She shut the bedroom door and tiptoed into the kitchen, Jill following.
“How did it go today?”
“She didn’t even want to hear about RockYourBaby. I couldn’t pitch it.”
“I’m sorry. Don’t worry, there’ll be other—”
“She wants me.”
“You?” Jill clapped her hands. “That’s great! Wait. It’s good. Yeah?”
“No, dummy! Not good.” Carly reached into the cabinet and took down her blender. “I need to sell Mom’s company. And time is not my best friend right now.”
“But...what about their offer?”
Carly lined up the fresh fruit. Bananas, apples, blueberries. “It’s not an offer. She’d like me to send a portfolio of all the clothes I threw together for Grace so she’d look cute in the photos. Maybe something would come out of it, or maybe not.”
Jill laughed. “But that’s great. You finally found your niche in the fashion industry.”
Carly threw in a banana and pureed it. She dumped it out into a bowl, where she mixed it. Later, she’d put it in the small containers she’d bought so that Grace could have fresh baby food.
“I never thought I’d design baby clothes.”
“Sometimes life surprises you.” Jill leaned against the counter. “You don’t hate it, do you?”
“No. Actually, I kind of like it. Weird, I know.”
Jill slid a significant look in the direction of her baby-food making. “And by the way, what the hell are you doing?”
“Making Grace her baby food.”
“I know what you’re doing. I just wonder why.”
“Why?” Now Carly turned and went hands on hips. “And you used to be an au pair! It’s the healthiest way to feed a baby. Natural. Homemade.”
“And that’s usually the way parents do it. Not nannies, or at least not unless we’re asked. You don’t mean to tell me that Levi asked you to do this.”
She shook her head.
“So, basically, you’re doing this out of the kindness of your own heart. Because you are so invested in her health and well-being.”
“Uh, well. Actually...I—”
“Stop.” Jill held up her palm. “This is exactly what I was afraid of. You stroked her cheek when you laid her down. You’re making her fresh baby food. Fake fiancée or not, you’re getting way too attached.”
“No.” Carly shook her head. “I’m not getting too attached to Levi.”
“I don’t mean Levi.”
* * *
LATER, CARLY CHANGED Grace’s diaper for the nth time that day. “Jill is ridiculous.”
“Ba-goo,” Grace said.
Pretty sure that meant she agreed. She’d been up for a couple hours now. After Jill had left and Grace had woken from her nap, she’d engaged in her usual babbling alternated with crying jags. Eventually, she’d calmed down some after Carly had walked her in the backyard to look at the flowers and trees.
Of course Carly wasn’t getting too attached to Grace. It was a ridiculous suggestion. Babies were sticky and needy and always hungry and wet. It wasn’t her fault that she was a good person and wanted to feed an innocent baby fresh food. She supposed if it were up to Jill, Grace would eat baby food filled with additives. She carried Grace into the living room and set her on the play mat she adored. Second favorite after being outside.
Carly picked up one of the nanny résumés from the stack on her coffee table and took a look. This was a chore she’d been avoiding, but getting someone else was the responsible thing to do. Her work here was done. Obviously, the website and blog were much more successful when she stuck to her wheelhouse—clothes. Even if they were simply baby clothes. The blog had never been so popular since she’d started posting photos of her new outfits almost daily.
The first few résumés were adequate but pretentious. Why should someone who had her degree in child psychology think she was the perfect nanny? What? No one else understood what made a child tick? Please. When Carly picked up the résumé of a woman who had studied child development in both high school and college, was working toward obtaining her teaching credentials, spoke Spanish as a second language and had a minor in art, Carly assumed she’d found the perfect nanny. Given the dates of her graduation, she was around twenty-five. She would probably be perfect.
For reasons she couldn’t explain in a bazillion years, Carly tore up the résumé.
Carly’s phone buzzed, and she reached for it as a text message from Levi scrolled across the screen.
Buckle up, buttercup. On my way home and Mrs. Lane is following me.
Carly furiously texted back, Why? What does she want?
His reply came quickly.
It’s not good, but I’ll explain later. For now try to act like a good fiancée who’s completely in love with me.
You’re hilarious.
Spare key under the mat. Meet me at home.
Carly threw her phone down. She should text-argue with the man, but her house was not fit for company. She had unopened boxes from UPS crowding the great room and she hadn’t cleaned up her kitchen yet. She’d told Mrs. Lane they’d go out sometime for dinner, but tonight wasn’t going to work. She just wasn’t prepared to act like Levi’s dutiful fiancée. Not tonight.
Tonight she’d planned to phone her brother Kirk and ask him for an update on how their father was really doing. Maybe have a genuine conversation about options.
“Okay, girl. This is for both of us. Showtime.” Carrying Grace next door, she bent to find the key under the mat and slid it in the keyhole.
When she let herself in the door, it became clear why Levi wanted to meet
her here. While her home was in its usual state of chaos, his place was immaculate. How did he do it? She’d assumed the other night when she’d been over that it had been a fluke, that Grace had been with Cassie and he’d had time to straighten up. But he’d left the house this morning, and the only thing out of place was a single coffee mug in the sink.
They were so different. He was neat, she was a mess. Ditto emotions. His were tightly controlled and she was wound up like a top half the time. She often had no clue what he could be thinking, beyond getting her naked. That was where he became obvious.
With her, there was never any doubt what she felt about any situation.
He tossed Grace up in the air, so certain that he’d catch her. Carly was only the nanny, but she pureed fresh fruit so Grace could eat healthier.
And were they supposed to be living together now, in his home? Because she didn’t see how Irene would believe that a woman lived here in this...testosterone-filled house. There were no touches of femininity. No flowers or pastel colors. Either way, she’d take Levi’s lead and go along with it. It was her fault they were engaged in the first place.
When she heard Levi’s truck pull into the driveway, she took a seat on the leather couch, Grace on her lap, poised for their entrance. Lights! Camera! Action!
Levi opened the door and held it for Irene, who walked through.
“Hello,” Carly said to both of them.
Grace squealed and held out her arms for Levi. Irene seemed to believe the excitement was for her, and not because Levi stood directly behind her.
“Grace!” Irene picked her up and kissed her plump cheek, then turned to Carly. “I hope I’m not intruding, but I’ve had a terrible day and Levi offered.”
He did, did he? “No worries. It’s good to see you.”
“Hey, babe.” Levi pulled her in for a squeeze. “How was your day?”
Carly stared up at him. He seemed natural in this domestic bliss scenario. She, however, was clueless. “Uh, good.”
“Dinner ready?”
Okay, that was a damn glint of mischief in his eyes. He was having some fun with her.
“There was a bit of a failure on that end.”
“Uh-oh. Burn it again?”
Carly glared at him.
His lips twitched.
“Please don’t go to any trouble for me,” Irene said. “Maybe we can just order takeout. You’re both busy professionals, after all. I don’t know how you do it.”
“Carly prides herself on a home-cooked meal every night,” Levi said. “She works all day, then spends her nights cooking and cleaning. I try to get her to stop and take a break, but she won’t listen to me.”
She was going to kill him.
“Super Mom.” Irene smiled. “Grace, you’re so lucky.”
“I’m the lucky one.” Levi grinned.
Well, he wouldn’t feel so lucky when she relieved him of his manhood. “What can I say? I try.”
“Oh, she does more than try. I’m one happy man.” He kissed her, a long, deep kiss that had her losing both her footing and a tiny piece of her mind. It was an 8.0 on the Richter scale of PDA.
“Oh, my,” Irene said.
When Levi finally broke off the kiss, for the second time that week, Carly turned to see a grandma shielding Grace’s eyes.
“Babe, we’ve talked about this.” Carly smiled through gritted teeth.
He threw up his hands. “I’m sorry, I can’t help myself.”
“Oh, yes, yes, you can.” Carly said. “By the way, babe. Your gym bag? I threw it and all the stinky clothes in it away. I was worried about toxic smells near the baby.”
His eyes narrowed. “I needed a new gym bag anyway.”
“Men,” Carly said, plugging her nose. “I invest heavily in air fresheners and scented candles.”
“I’ll order us a pizza,” Levi said, taking a step away and pulling his phone out. “Okay if I put anchovies on it? Carly wants me to eat fish once a week. You know, for heart health.”
“If you don’t mind, dear, I’m allergic, so I’d rather not,” Irene, God bless her, said. Then she elbowed Carly and whispered near her ear, “I’d enjoy this affection while you’re young. Believe me.”
She glanced at Levi, who now stood facing the sliding glass door to the backyard, phone to his ear.
Her entire childhood had involved being teased and humiliated by her two older brothers, who never missed a chance. And since she’d learned at the feet of the masters, she’d never been a slouch in the department.
She would need some time, but oh, how she’d plot her revenge.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
BEFORE THE PIZZA ARRIVED, Carly busied herself setting the table. It took her three tries to find the cabinets where Levi kept his dishes. She guessed at the utensil drawer twice. Eventually all of them gathered at the table to eat. Grace babbled as she sat in her high chair next to Irene, who talked on and on about Grace.
“I’d like to help contribute toward her care,” she said.
“We’re doing fine,” Levi said.
“Anything you two need, just name it. I’ll be taking Frank to the cleaners, so I should have some money.”
“Excuse me?” Carly asked.
“Yes, I’m divorcing the ass.” She covered her mouth. “Excuse me. Little ears. The man. I’m divorcing the man.”
Levi stuffed his mouth with another giant bite of pizza, but his eyebrows were drawn in concern as he listened.
“That seems...sudden,” Carly said.
Irene sadly shook her head and patted Carly’s hand. “I know how much you and your mother believe in family and lasting bonds. But this is something I have to do. God knows we can’t all be Pearl Gilmore.”
Now she was speaking Carly’s language.
“I hope you’re not doing it on my account,” Levi said. “Because I’m willing to put the misunderstandings in the past.”
“That’s big of you. But no. It’s not just the lies. It’s everything. I’m only sixty-two, and I’ve got a lot of living left to do. I want to live for the rest of my life, and I think he’s ready to shrivel up and die. He’s grieving, like I am, but he hasn’t reached out for help. And he needs help because he’s only dealing with his pain by hurting people around him. The people who care, like me. I honestly don’t know what else I can do.”
Poor Frank. And poor Irene. She was being so brave about it all. Carly couldn’t imagine what it would be like to start over at her age, and after what she assumed was so many years of marriage. To give up would have been unthinkable to her parents.
Carly wanted, more than anything, what her parents had for so many years, but it seemed elusive. That kind of bond didn’t just happen. One didn’t go out and place an ad for it. It was kismet, serendipity. All that gobbledygook no one believed in anymore. Someday, she wanted a marriage based on love, and honesty, and passion. Until the day her mother died, her father had called her his bride. It seemed so unfair that two people who still loved each other so much would be taken from each other, while the Lanes were just throwing it all away.
Levi continued the conversation, asking about the important things, like Sandy’s medical history and whether he might get her records at some point. Things he should know, for Grace’s sake. All things he should be concerned with, and Carly was proud of him for thinking of them. He might have teased her earlier, but it was clear that Levi had a plan that involved more than the two of them playing house.
God, he was amazing. Raising his daughter on his own. His blue eyes were intent and bright as he listened to Irene. Brimming with intelligence and curiosity, just like his daughter’s. This wasn’t fair. They’d both wormed their way into her life and her heart. And maybe Jill had been right. Carly was going to get hurt, and hurt badly, when Levi
found himself in a real relationship and not this cat-and-mouse game they’d both been playing. When she sold Mom’s company and moved on to New York, he’d replace her in no time. Her feelings might be real and growing fast, but she didn’t think the same could be said of Levi. He was clearly intent on doing it all on his own.
He needed Carly to be his eyes and ears during the day, but almost anyone trustworthy enough could do this job. Anyone at all. Cassie had, the other night. Pull Carly out of this situation and insert anyone else and there would be no real difference. Grace would have her diapers changed by another nanny, and Levi would...find the occasional comfort with that nanny, too? Hot kisses and the occasional friends with benefits?
I hate when I feel sorry for myself.
Eventually, dinner and talk were over and Irene asked if she might be allowed to bathe Grace and put her to bed. After getting them settled, Levi stood at the end of the hallway leading to the bedrooms, hands shoved in the pockets of his black cargo pants.
“You said I stink.”
“You made me sound like a servant!”
“Okay, fine. We both had our fun. Truce.”
“Do you think she bought it?” Carly whispered. “Us?”
He stepped into the kitchen. “Might have been more convincing if my future bride hadn’t acted like I was mauling her when I kissed her.”
She’d done no such thing and was shocked to think he even cared. But more important, her heart had stopped on the word bride. “What did you say?”
He didn’t answer for a beat. “You’re not comfortable with PDA, I take it.”
“Bride. You said bride. Don’t throw that word around like it doesn’t mean anything.”
His eyebrows knit together, and he looked genuinely confused. “It was your idea, babe.”
Yes, yes, it had been her idea. It hadn’t bothered her at the time, just a means to an end. But now things were different. She just didn’t know why.
“You don’t have to remind me,” she said, going toward the front door. “I know how much you hated the idea. It won’t be long now that we can at least stop pretending.”
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